


Egomaniac, Control Freak, Game Player

by sb_essebi



Series: Whouffaldi one-shots [6]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 12 is an idiot, Clara is a tease, F/M, First Time, Making Love, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bossy clara, very light D/s vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-01 08:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12701247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sb_essebi/pseuds/sb_essebi
Summary: Prompt by AngelHaggis13: Could you write a smutty chapter with a dominant Clara?





	Egomaniac, Control Freak, Game Player

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngelHaggis13](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=AngelHaggis13).



Clara stepped out of the TARDIS and into her bedroom, turning back a second after. "Doctor, are you sure you are okay?" Clara asked, looking into his pale blue eyes as he leaned out of the TARDIS doors. 

"Yes, yes, I am. Okay," he stammered. He avoided her gaze and looked down. Clara hated to see him like that, it made her heart clench somehow.

"Come here," she requested.

"Why?"

"I said. Come. Here." He obliged and stepped close to her, looking down at her, finally meeting her eyes, staring at her as if to scan her in search of some damage. "What happened today, it wasn't your fault." He had been unusually silent during the short ride back to her time, back to her flat, but she knew what he was hiding: they had visited this planet, and it should have been a completely safe one according to him, but she had ended up being kidnapped and imprisoned.

"Yes, it was. If I..."

"If you what? Listen, there's nothing you could have done to avoid that, okay?"

"At least I could have saved you." Right. Unfortunately, he had been lying unconscious on the ground, in the forest, and she had simply had to escape by herself.

"I don't need to be saved. You don't need to save me. Saving you, that's my job."

"Rubbish." He inched closer and his hand found her cheek, which surprised both of them. "Stop saying that...Clara…I could have…lost you," he uttered, barely a whisper. Clara could see his eyes bright, utter terror still clenching his heart even though he had tried to hide it.

His stare was intense and the contact of his palm on her face was making her skin electric. "You didn't. I'm right here," she stated. She briefly wondered how their faces seemed to grow closer every second, how had it happened that she could feel his breath on her skin and their noses were almost touching.

" _Clara_ ," he murmured, urgency in his voice.

Then, in a blink, his lips where on hers and her brain went shockingly blank. She gasped under the gentle pressure of his mouth and instinctively pushed back, her eyes falling shut as she sneaked an arm around the Doctor's neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands found her waist, tugging at the fabric of her dress, pressing his body against hers as he slipped his tongue in her welcoming mouth. She noted briefly how his hair was soft, his lips were cool and he tasted of whiskey and smelled of chalk, but mainly her brain wasn't working. Total, absolute void. She only knew that it was perfect, and addicting, and she was moaning into his mouth and she never wanted to stop. She also knew that at some point, after what seemed like long hours and mere seconds at the same time, she was gasping for air and pulled back abruptly.

"Sorry. Sorry sorry sorry. I should never have done that," the Doctor murmured hurriedly.

They stared at each other for a long moment, in which her brain tried to process what had just happened. The Doctor. Kissing her. She couldn't not notice the look in his eyes as he apologised: one of longing and lust and desire and…fear. He feared  _rejection_ , feared that he had  _ruined_  everything they shared.

Clara didn't know why, of all things, she couldn't choose between life on Earth and life on the TARDIS, maybe it was self-defence, thinking he would never be what she needed him to be, that he didn't want to give her all of himself. She had been wrong all along. He had made it impossible for her to understand what he wanted. Suddenly, beside all the love and longing for this man she had torn herself apart for, she felt  _so_  angry.

"You... are an idiot."

"I know."

"No, no.  _You don't_ " she exclaimed angrily. "I... you… _wanted_  that. And everything I can think of is:  _why_  didn't you tell me before,  _why_  acting like an idiot and putting all that I'm-not-your-boyfriend show on?  _You. Are. An. Idiot_!"

She slapped him across the face. Hard. He brought his hand to his reddening cheek, his look somewhere between amazed and scandalized. One moment later, she was yanking him down by the lapels of his jacket, kissing him, slamming her lips against his. Her tongue pushed its way into his mouth without hesitation, and in a moment he was reciprocating every bit of her enthusiasm, each of them daring the other to kiss harder, bite down on lips, grab hair and tug at clothes until Clara was stepping back towards her bed, dragging the Doctor with her.

As her legs hit the mattress, she pulled him on top of her, struggling to free him of his jacket, which ended up on the floor in a matter of seconds. Swiftly, she broke the kiss and flipped them over.

"Clara. What are we doing?" he asked, somewhere between scared and genuinely oblivious.

She grinned down at him, his hair a mess, eyes dark and face flush. "You…" she pressed her hips against his and ran her hands down his arms, pressing them at the sides of his head, resting her palms over his and intertwining their fingers. "…are going to apologize for being such an idiot. You get that?" He nodded slowly, and Clara didn't miss the way his pupils dilated and his pulse raced beneath her palms.

"I am sorry."

"Not the kind of apology I meant."

"What kind of apology did you mean?"

"Don't you know?" She asked, arching an eyebrow. He remained silent. "You are imagining, though."

"Yes," he whispered hesitantly.

"What are you imagining?" she asked mischievously.

"Many things."

Her fingers trailed down to the hem of his jumper, very slowly, intentionally so, lifting it and the shirt underneath just a little. She felt his abdominals contract as he held his breath. Eyes locked with his, she slipped her hands beneath the fabric and he helped her to take the garments off, throwing them to the side. She pushed him down on the mattress again and ran her palms over his thin chest, exploring the soft skin, brushing his nipples ever-so-gently, tracing the lines of his cleavage, of his strong shoulders and arms, feeling his skin warmer than usual. His eyes drifted closed and he shuddered lightly under her touch.

"Is this any close?" she asked.

"No. No, it isn't" he murmured. Her hands stopped mid-movement and she searched for his gaze. He opened his eyes in a warm, reassuring look. He slowly snaked a hand between them, taking hers and bringing it up to caress his neck and cheek. "Nothing I might have dared to fantasize about could ever come close to this." He guided her hand further up and kissed her fingertips so very softly. " _Clara._ " Sometimes he simply said her name but it meant the world to just the two of them.

"Doctor," Clara whispered, bending down to kiss him. Gentle at first, hot full lips meeting cool, thinner ones, then more passionately, a small bite on his lip enough to make him sigh and open his mouth to her, his hips rocking upwards into hers enough to make them both gasp with need. When she found the strength to finally leave his lips, she threw her dress behind her back, not caring where it landed, drinking avidly the Doctor's intense, longing stare as he mapped her body, fully exposed if it weren't for her bra and knickers.

" _OhgodsClara_. You are…so beautiful," he whispered, the tone of reverence in his voice making a subtle warm wave run up her spine. "Clara- I- I love you. Clara. I… want you," he uttered huskily, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Say that again," she ordered back, feeling her own cheeks burning hot, his words exciting her more than the sight of his body beneath hers.

" _Clara_ ," he said simply. She wondered how many other times he had declared his love for her just like this, without the actual words.

"I love you too," she conceded.

She kissed down his neck, where lean muscles turned into soft and sensitive skin and his age showed. Oh, the times she had wanted to kiss him there, nibbling at the tender flesh, feeling his blood rushing in his veins just like she did now, his eyes shut and his body rocking instinctively against hers as his hands roamed over her back. His touch was light and gentle as he unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, fingertips barely brushing her skin, worshipping her with a silent kind of wonder that made her nerves tingle. She moaned quietly as he started to massage her breasts with those graceful, beautiful fingers of his, tormenting her hardened nipples, causing her to sigh softly. The Doctor affected her so deeply, he would have her break in mere moments, the idea of giving up control just for this night  _so_  tempting. But Clara didn't want that. She wanted to take this with her own pace, take him in her own way.

She shifted his hands to his sides, down on the bed, and her mouth rapidly trailed lower, placing quick open-mouthed kisses on his chest and stomach. His hips bucked when she reached the waistband of his trousers and she smiled, purposely running two fingers along the visible bulge between his legs, feeling steel underneath, his back arching off the mattress, yearning for her touch as he let out a small moan, needy and throaty and low.

"Clara."

"Shhh." Clara soothed, carefully unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers, lowering them just enough for her to lower his boxers too and finally take him in hand. She couldn't help a grin at the sight of him – regeneration had been oh so generous in that matter. She stroked him once, gently, experimentally, placing a feather-light kiss on the tip. The Doctor gasped and his body trembled violently, his right hand tangling in her hair, his shoulders lifting from the bed. Smirking, Clara pushed him back.

"Down, boy," she commanded, smiling playfully. It was addicting to have the Doctor, almighty Time Lord, so needy, so overcome, just for her, but she wanted more. She wanted control, needed him to let her know he belonged to her. Maybe he was right, egomaniac and control freak she was. Game player too. "Put your hands behind your back." He looked at her with a hint of curiosity, silently accepting her game, and obliged, lacing his arms behind his muscular back and grabbing with each hand the wrist of the other. He let his head fall back on the pillow and exhaled a long, shuddering breath.

Clara returned to her previous task, kissing her way up his thigh and giving a slow, long lick to his length, swirling her tongue around the tip as his hips arched upwards and he took several sharp intakes of breath. Clara could feel his every muscle go rigid and tense. She took him in her mouth, deliberately slowly, then slid her lips back up and repeated the movement, starting a faster pace that had low, loud appreciative hums come from deep in the Doctor's chest and his body thrust up to match her rhythm. She kept holding his hips down on the mattress, not willing to let him set the tempo.

Clara would have smiled if her lips weren't otherwise busy. She felt so powerful, in charge of his pleasure, of his release, being allowed to touch him freely where he was most vulnerable. It was so intimate, the way she could feel his every reaction, every trembling of his body as she cupped his balls to add to the ministrations of her tongue and mouth and pleasured him with small and careful movements of her fingertips, making the Doctor let out a loud groan that sounded a lot like her name. A powerful surge of electricity ran down her spine and she shuddered lightly.

" _Clara_ ," he repeated. "Clara, I'm-  _please I don't want to come yet_ ," he breathed quickly, words barely distinguishable from one another.

Clara lifted her head to look up at him, finding his face and neck reddened with arousal and a thin veil of sweat covering his body as he breathed heavily, trying to regain some resemblance of composure. She ran her hand up and down his shaft a pair of times, watching his head drop back and push forcefully against the pillow, his teeth biting his lower lip and hips thrusting upwards once more. "What do you want, then?" she teased.

He gazed at her and she could no longer see the blue in his eyes, only grey and black. So much black. "You. I want you," he said firmly, his voice low enough to make her tremble with excitement and desire and he knees turn to jelly. Sometimes Clara was convinced that his voice had some sort of power on her.

"Say please," she managed to say, struggling to regain control.

" _Please_ ," he asked, voice softer and gentler this time, begging for permission.

"I love you," she said, staring into his eyes, her words almost an apology for teasing him for so long.

"I know," the Doctor answered, smiling this shy smile.

Clara made quick work of his shoes and their remaining clothes, then went back to straddling him, taking him in her small hand and lowering herself on him. She gasped and her head lolled back, eyes shut, as she felt him fill her completely, warm and hard, stretching her just the right way, spreading heat and shivers through her body as she heard the Doctor hiss a small sound, his body giving an involuntary thrust into her, hard and firmly, making her moan and her eyes pop open.

"Oh, God. Doctor."

"Clara. Clara Clara Clara  _Clara_."

He chanted her name like a prayer, and his hands searched for her body to get hold of her hips. Clara intertwined their fingers instead, pushing the back of his hands on the mattress and using them for leverage as she started to move. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought that her body hadn't been designed for a pleasure so heartstoppingly intense, head swimming, nerves on fire, skin burning and muscles trembling. Not that she was able to think, anyway. She could only feel, feel the Doctor inside her, the warmth of his body, the almost painful grip of his hands in hers. As if from a great distance, she could hear her own cries of pleasure mixed with the Doctor's as his hips matched the rhythm she set, building their release together, her heart pounding and her breath shallow as tension coiled in her abdomen.

They had been denying themselves this, them, for so long. Too long. Clara couldn't tell how long it lasted, but probably it would always be over too soon. She no longer knew if she was thrusting down on him or he was pushing up into her, lifting her weight with ease, or if it was both, but she felt the knot of tension in her belly tighten suddenly before breaking, sending a burning river of electricity through every inch of her body, so mindblowing that she would have forgotten her name if the Doctor weren't calling it over and over as her muscles clenched around him and he climaxed right after her, his seed filling her and adding to the overload of sensations.

Clara let her body rest on top of his, feeling as if every part of her was melting in a puddle of warm comfort, neither of them breaking the silence with something different from their exhausted breaths against each other's skin, her fingers disentangling from his only for their palms to meet. Eyes closed, Clara listened to the beat of his hearts, still wild beneath her singles heartbeat, she could feel his blood rush in the veins of his wrists underneath hers. The Doctor pressed a soft kiss on her neck and shifted slightly under her, pulling out of her and making a move to gently roll her off him, but she kept him still.

"Stop. Don't move."

"You can't sleep on me, Clara," he protested weakly.

"Says who?" she provoked.

"Common sense," he murmured, but he stayed still, moving his arms to hold her close, embracing her tenderly. She pressed a kiss to his lips. "I love you," he whispered, brushing his forehead against hers. Somehow it was so intimate and almost…domestic for him to do this, so ordinary, she felt uncomfortable for a second and gave a small laugh to relieve the tension.

"Shut up. I want to sleep."

" 'Course, boss," he answered with a smile in his voice.

She waited until she was sure he had fallen asleep to whisper back:

"I love you too." She almost jumped in surprise when he kissed her shoulder and answered cheekily:

"Shut up. I want to sleep."


End file.
